


A Good Morning

by orphan_account



Category: EastEnders
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-06
Updated: 2012-06-06
Packaged: 2017-11-07 00:39:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/424995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fluffy future fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Good Morning

 

“Mister Masood.”

 

“Mister Clarke,” Christian leaned over and gently kissed his husband who moaned into the kiss and wound his arms around Christian's back to keep him there.

 

“Mmm. We really have to sort out this name thing,” Syed mumbled sleepily.

 

“I get to wake up to you every day for the rest of our lives. I don't care about names,” Christian told Syed in a hushed whisper.

 

“We could just keep our own names,” Syed suggested.

 

“Or double-barrel it,” Christian replied, gazing down at Syed and nearly lost himself in his husband's beautiful amber eyes. “Or we could argue about it...later.”

 

A slow smile crept over Syed's sleepy face. Christian lowered his head, maintaining eye contact until the last moment. They shifted closer, their morning arousals brushing against each other through their boxers.

 

A heavy fist banged on the door. “Boys, your mum sent me to get you up! She said if you weren't down for breakfast in five minutes she's gonna come in there and drag you out!”

 

“Yes, Dad!” Syed called back.

 

“Really, guys, we've got a crazy busy day at The Unit today...”

 

Christian gave Syed a quick peck and slid out of bed, grabbing the baggy sports shorts at the side of the bed and slipping them on quickly on the way to the door. With bed hair and still half-naked and bare-foot, Christian opened the door just enough to greet a worried Masood at the other side.

 

“I'm really, sorry. Its just Zee's on the warpath...”

 

Christian chuckled not because it was funny but because it was horrific having to get up so early for anything other than sex and that had been interrupted by his husband's parents. “Go on, Mas. You'll be late for work. Leave Zainab to me.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“She's a pussycat,” Christian assured him. Masood, for all his skill in dealing with his wife's temper looked relieved and Christian watched him go downstairs.

 

“The boys are up, I'm just going to work, Zee. Bye!”

 

Christian chuckled again as Masood rushed out before Zainab could corner him again and beat a quick retreat back into the bedroom he shared with Syed when Zainab appeared, storming to the front door after Masood. He closed the door and turned back to face the bed, watching Syed stretch his arms up and then burrow once more under the covers.

 

Their eyes met once more across the room.

 

“Want you,” Syed mumbled.

 

“You're a cruel man, Syed Clarke.”

 

“Christian Masood...” Syed retorted with a cheeky 'come hither' grin.

 

Christian picked up a stray t-shirt and threw it across the room.

 

Syed sniffed it, examined it and then pulled it on. “Do we have to fight to have make-up sex or can we just skip straight to the great make-up sex part?”

 

“Does this make-up sex include a bed or, say, the couch at the Unit?” Christian smirked.

 

Syed said nothing but he ducked as a happy smile crept onto his face and then glanced back up, blushing. With a smile stuck to his face Christian turned away to get clean socks and a t-shirt from the dresser. Running clothes for his jog around the square.

 

“Coming running?” Christian asked.

 

“Shower,” Syed replied finally, reluctantly, crawling out of bed, “Then Salaat.”

 

 

Ten minutes later a panting, sweaty Christian returned from his run via the kitchen's back door. Zainab was sitting drinking tea and contemplating her day when Christian came in. Clearly hungry, he went straight for the cornflakes.

 

“You know it wouldn't kill you to shower first,” She berated him.

 

“Eat first, shower later. Sy eaten yet?”

 

“Still praying. I swear, I thought he was never coming out of that shower! He's definitely gotten more vain since you two married and believe me, that's saying something.”

 

Christian smirked to himself. He doubted it was Syed's vanity that had kept him in the bathroom for so long and more something to do with the lack of sex that morning.

 

It was a smirk that didn't go unnoticed by Zainab.

 

“Oh, please, not again. As far as I'm concerned you two sleep in separate beds and have never seen each other naked!”

 

Christian sniggered. Zainab's slow acceptance of their relationship had taken several months but she had finally come around. Now her grumblings and adamant denials were more for show than anything else because Zainab knew as well as anyone what they got up to. She heard the bed springs creaking every night and had long since learned to shout out from the Unit's doorway that she was coming in before entering the Unit, hoping to avoid seeing Christian's hand down Syed's trousers ever again.

 

“Yes, mum.”

 

“Don't call me that!” Zainab grumbled.

 

“Yes, Mum.” Christian's good mood was irrepressible and he just smiled his cheeky smile, laughed and dug into his cornflakes. Not long after, the quiet mumbled prayers in the living room down the hall stopped and Syed appeared looking eager for some food and a cup of tea.

 

“Syed, tell him to stop calling me mum,” Zainab told her son as soon as he entered.

 

“Why? We are married now and someone even press ganged an Imam into blessing it for us.”

 

“Yes...well... Someone has to make sure these things are done properly. Christian, what are you doing?” Zainab suddenly found a new topic when Christian rose from the table having inhaled his entire cornflakes in a couple of minutes.

 

“Going for a shower?”

 

“Not on that breakfast you're not. Its no wonder Syed's so thin when you set this sort of example. You have a full day in The Unit and you think you'll get by on cornflakes? Sit down! I'll make some french toast! You must have three slices, at least! And fruit too! And Tea!”

 

Christian stared open mouthed at Zainab as she got up and then at Sy who wasn't helping matters by sniggering into the back of his hand. Christian sent him a glare behind Zainab's back that promised some sort of retribution later but Syed wasn't put off.

 

“And you'll eat it and like it!” Syed told Christian with a smile, poking fun at his domineering mother.

 

“Yes he will,” Zainab said seriously.

 

Christian gave in and sat back down, his good mood heightened by Zainab's mothering. Protest as much as she would, Zainab couldn't help showing she cared and Christian couldn't help winding her up about it. “Yes, Mum.”

 

“And don't call me that.”

 

“Yes, Mum.”

 

Zainab spun around and pointed an eggy fork at him. “You know, you're lucky I like you.”

 

Underneath the table Syed's bare foot crept up his leg out of Zainab's sight. Christian crossed his arms and grinned, his tongue between his teeth. “Yes, Mum.”


End file.
